


Jewels and Ashes

by Laine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dark, F/M, Kink Meme, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:36:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laine/pseuds/Laine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want her to see you," he'd told her. "Strong and beautiful and powerful, a true Queen, not the little girl she wanted to break."  <i>But how do you want her to see you, Jaime?</i>  Jaime and Sansa visit Cersei in the dungeons of King's Landing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jewels and Ashes

  
They steal through the corridors of the keep they once called home, the castle Sansa had hoped to escape forever- the past clings to the flagstones and pushes its shadows into every corner.  The Red Keep bleeds, and not even dragon fire can solder the wounds.    
  
Jaime’s hand is tight around her wrist as he pulls her down the winding stairs that lead to the dungeons.  Her stomach flutters with apprehension- _nothing down here but eyes and bones_ \- but he squeezes, and she follows.  
  
“I want her to see,” he’d said to Sansa earlier that evening, his left hand stroking into her smallclothes as his face burrowed into her neck.  “I want her to see you, strong and beautiful and powerful, a true Queen, not the little girl she wanted to break.”    
  
 _And how do you want her to see you, Jaime?_  
  
She nodded her agreement in a fit of impulse- a part of her wished it all to be a jape, but the hard glint in his green eyes immediately tossed that hope away.  But whenever she began to quail, Jaime would repeat the words like a prayer- _Queen in the North, a true queen, not a broken girl anymore..._ \- and she’d feel a pleasurable twinge between her legs.   
  
When they arrive at their destination, Jaime releases her wrist and takes hold of her shoulders, the golden hand rigid against her flesh.  He leads her to the bars of the cell, and she peers inside.  
  
Cersei Lannister looks up at her visitors.  Her pallid skin shines white as marble in the torchlight, the dark shadows in the hollows of her cheeks a sharp contrast.  Her hair has grown back only a little- short, wispy curls of spun gold framing her narrow face.  The loose shift she wears reveals wiry arms and legs; her long, elegant fingers are calloused, with broken nails.  And yet her eyes shine more brilliantly than ever, the gaunt paleness of her face only emphasizing their beauty.  There is still something majestic about her, something savage and wild and brazen- _she won’t be broken, either._  
  
The former Queen steps toward the bars.  When she speaks, her voice holds the metallic rasp of disuse.  “Brother.”  
  
She says nothing to Sansa, who nearly winces as Jaime grabs her shoulders tighter.    
  
“You are in the presence of the Queen in the North, sister.  You will kneel and pay your proper respects.”  
  
Her eyes barely flicker to Sansa before returning to Jaime.  “So you’ve found a new Queen to serve, have you?”  
  
Jaime lowers his left arm and wraps it around Sansa’s waist, pulling her close.  The golden hand brushes her hair over one shoulder, and he drops his head to her neck, kissing up and down the side.  A chill prickles up Sansa’s spine when he purrs, “I have.”   
  
Cersei remains in place, eyes glittering like gemstones, a queer smile spreading across her chapped lips.  Jaime halts his caresses, obviously waiting for an answer, for an outburst- but she gives him nothing.    
  
And then he’s pulling at the laces of his breeches and pushing at Sansa’s skirts, urging her forward until her forehead presses between the cold iron bars.  “Grab hold,” he hisses, and she wants to tell him no, to ask him what they’re proving, to turn and run from this wraith with jewels in her eyes-  
  
She cries out when he thrusts into her, her hands clenching on the bars.  His weight pushes against her, his breath is hot in her ear- she releases a tiny whimper of pleasure in spite of herself, and her stomach twists when Cersei’s smile sharpens.    
  
Rage and shame and disgust and desire collide within her, and she tries once to wrest herself away from Jaime- but he’s too strong, too furious, too determined.  
  
“You’ve been forgotten, Cersei,” he pants, seizing Sansa’s face and capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss.  “There are queens everywhere...true queens...”  He licks a bead of sweat from Sansa’s neck as his pace quickens- “You’re nothing.  Only air.”  
  
“Is that right?”  Cersei moves forward until her face hovers just in front of Sansa- and Gods, she is more beautiful and terrible than ever, a caged lioness.    
  
She closes her hands over Sansa’s fists- her palms are cool and dry.  And her face is so close, those cruel, shining eyes bright enough to blind-  
  
“My Queen,” she whispers, and Sansa bites her lip to keep from sobbing- this is all so unfair, she should feel vindicated, should feel victorious...but there’s only emptiness here...  
  
Cersei’s thin wrist reaches through the bars and cups Jaime’s cheek, drawing his face forward over Sansa’s shoulder.  Her lips meet his, just for a moment, and she smiles again when she murmurs, “My beautiful golden fool.”  
  
When Jaime comes inside her, Sansa lets her eyes wander to the far end of the prison, where one of the great dragon skulls casts its menacing shadow on the wall.  
  
But she turns her attention to the ground below.  And all she sees are ashes.  

 


End file.
